


Consequences

by margotgrissom



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F, dub-con, gun!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margotgrissom/pseuds/margotgrissom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actions have consequences, and sometimes these consequences involve finding yourself on the wrong end of a gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Gun!sex fic for surena_13, my eternal cheerleader. Inspired by a porny gif from 'The Devil's Rejects'.
> 
> Warning: Dub-con (if you squint a lot)

Brenda flinched at the sudden feel of cool, hard metal against her side. What the hell was that? She was already blindfolded and handcuffed to the headboard of Sharon's bed, what else could the woman add to that? Wondering if there were gags made of metal, the item was pressed harder into her side, and she froze when realisation hit her. 

Sharon was holding a gun to her torso.

She opened her mouth to protest but before she could utter a single word the woman's mouth was on hers, kissing her hard. Even teeth bit Brenda's bottom lip while just the muzzle of the gun traced a path along her ribs, drawing a whimper from Brenda that was swallowed almost entirely by Sharon's hungry mouth. When the woman eventually let up, Brenda gasped for air and pulled at her restrains. Of course, the handcuffs didn't budge, the edges only digging deeper into Brenda's skin. But the blonde didn't pay any attention to that. The only thing she found herself able to focus on was the gun that was now pressed against her lower belly. 

“Have you lost your mind, Sharon?” she demanded breathlessly. The only reply she got was a small, derisive snort.

This evening was a nightmare. A sick, twisted nightmare. Which, sadly, made it the perfect conclusion to the day she's had. She'd been called out of bed at 3am for triple-homicide where one of the victims had been a four year old girl. The murderer had been taken down by a patrol officer a few blocks from the crime scene shortly after, calling for the presence of F.I.D. And even Brenda had to admit that her behaviour towards Sharon, practically from the second the captain had gotten out of her car, had been abysmal. Not that she'd been aware of that as she hurled abuse at the other woman in front of everybody, but seeing Flynn and Provenza's eyes widen in complete disbelief told her that she'd crossed a line, as the captain squared her shoulders, turned on her pointy heels and stalked off. Several, really. And Brenda felt bad about it. She knew that ever since she'd started sleeping with the woman, she had been acting like a lunatic around her whenever they had to work together. Sharon possessed a way to get under her skin and press all her buttons but that had not been the issue here. The case had simply gotten to Brenda and she had taken it out on the next best target. In such a way that apparently even the people in her squad who despised Sharon felt a little sorry for the wicked witch. So to say that Brenda was surprised when Sharon handed in her report and told her to meet her at her condo later that night would have been a massive understatement. 

She was startled back into the here and now as the muzzle of the gun slowly travelled upwards over her sternum, with just enough pressure to make the contact uncomfortable. Then it's path veered to the right, tracing circles around her nipple. Brenda willed her body not to respond but the traitorous bud hardened anyway, catching on the ridges on the gun as Sharon changed the angle and rubbed the length of the barrel over it. 

Brenda cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady as she said: “Seriously Sharon, this is insane.”

She felt the mattress dip next to her as Sharon changed her position, and the movement of the gun stopped but its touch didn't leave her.

“I've had enough of you talking for one day.” Clear, clipped tones as usual, but Sharon's voice seemed icier than ever. “If you want to stop, say the word and I will uncuff you, so you can get dressed and go home to your husband.” Brenda pressed her lips together. Going home was just about the last thing she wanted. And as if the other woman had read her mind, she continued: “If you want to stay, you will shut the fuck up.” Brenda almost flinched at how sharply Sharon enunciated the swear word, and found herself nodding, without having made the conscious decision to do so. 

As the gun moved to stroke and tease Brenda's other nipple, she fought back small moan as a cold tingle of arousal mixed with fear coiled at the base of her spine. There was no reason to be nervous, she told herself. Sharon 'rulebook' Raydor would not engage in this sort of thing with a loaded gun. She just wouldn't. Even if it just was to prevent the F.I.D. investigation that would follow an accidental discharge of the weapon. And yet, Brenda had no way to check and make sure. No way to control the situation other than to put a stop to it altogether. That alone was enough to scare her. 

She whimpered quietly as the gun started to journey again, along her clavicle and then upwards, tracing a tendon in her throat. The muzzle moved along her jaw and then, much to Brenda's horror, pushed against her lips.

“Open your mouth.”

It was a simple enough instruction, yet Brenda needed a moment before she could persuade her muscles to follow it. When she parted her lips, she do so with a full-body shiver. The metal slipped into her mouth, and she though she could feel the front sight against her hard palate.

“Suck it. Like you would a cock,” Sharon ordered her, the tone perfectly calm yet firm, leaving no room for discussion. So Brenda did, lips closing around the barrel, tongue tracing the ridges tentatively. 

“You can do better than that.”

The gun was pressed a little deeper into her mouth and Brenda swallowed reflexively around it. She ran her tongue more firmly along the underside of the barrel, sucking it in earnest, tasting metal and Ballistol. She just knew Sharon was smirking at her in that superior way only she could, and the feeling of humiliation that came with it had tears prickle at the back of her eyes. But she would not give the older woman the gratification of making her cry.

After what were probably only a few minutes, but seemed to stretch into a small eternity for Brenda, Sharon seemed satisfied and slowly withdrew the weapon. Its now wet muzzle trailed very slowly down Brenda's body, leaving goose bumps in it's wake. When it reached the top of the patch of dark blonde hair between her legs, Brenda jerked against her restraints. It took every ounce of willpower for her to not yell at Sharon to stop. 

Even knowing perfectly well what would happen next, Brenda was still unprepared for the sensation of the barrel moving along her labia. Gasping, she squirmed, involuntarily spreading her legs a little wider. The muzzle was gently pressed between her folds and moved up, starting to rub over her clit in a slow, controlled pattern. Brenda bit down the moan rising in her throat and tried, for a moment even successfully, to resist grinding against the gun. But then Sharon gradually increased the speed, and boy did it feel good, even if everything about the situation she was in was as wrong as it could be. Higher brain functions started giving way to pure sensation, setting every nerve end on fire, and Brenda moved shamelessly with the metal pressed against her. She couldn't believe the horrible woman would make her come like this. 

But Sharon didn't. The contact of the no longer cool metal suddenly left her completely, drawing a whine of protest from Brenda. She felt the mattress move, Sharon apparently shifting away from her.

She'd been close, so very, very, close and that woman had the audacity to leave her high and everything but dry? Consequences be damned, she opened her mouth to give Sharon a piece of her mind, but it turned into a loud moan instead when the other woman chose that very moment to roughly enter her. 

Brenda clenched around the intrusion, her back arching off the bed. She threw her head back and pushed herself deeper onto those long fingers, hissing at the burn she felt as her internal muscles stretched around the unmoving digits. Before she had the chance to fully adjust to the feeling, Sharon started fucking her. Long, deep, determined strokes, that had Brenda spiralling towards release in no time. Her entire body tensed, and she pulled at the handcuffs when she was almost there, so close, just a little extra sensation missing. Sharon, reading Brenda like an open book, curled her fingers and pressed her thumb against Brenda's clit, flicking over it once, twice, and the blonde came with a loud, drawn-out cry. For a little while, nothing but the ebbing waves of pleasure registered. Not the metal edges digging into the skin at her wrists, nor Sharon retracting her fingers. 

Brenda was shaken out of her daze when Sharon straddled her, releasing one of Brenda's hands from the cuffs, only to keep the other restrained. The blindfold was yanked from her face, none to gently, pulling out a few stray hairs in the process. 

Blinking blearily up at the older woman, in all her naked glory, Brenda waited for her eyes to adjust to the light from the bedside lamps. She wondered if she was allowed to speak now, but decided to wait for Sharon to give her a clue. 

Talking seemed not to be the thing on Sharon's mind however, as she grabbed Brenda's now free hand and pushed it between her own legs. Brenda's eyes widened when she found Sharon soaking wet. She slid her fingertips along the soft, puffy flesh, too tentative for Sharon's taste if the way her fingers dug harder into Brenda's skin was anything to go by. The older woman pushed Brenda's hand more firmly against her, the almost grim expression on her beautiful face telling Brenda not to make her wait. So she sought out the source of all this wetness and pushed two fingers into Sharon's ready body. 

Sharon groaned and let go off Brenda's hand, leaning forward and distributing her weight more securely on all fours, hovering over the other woman's body with her long hair falling like a curtain around both their faces, shielding them from the world around. Light green eyes bore into dark ones, and Brenda complied to the unspoken command. 

After the first few thrusts, Sharon began rocking her hips to meet Brenda, so she increased the pressure, pistoning her fingers in and out of the willing body above her. Sharon's breath soon became laboured and her movements slightly erratic, so Brenda pushed harder still, the heel of her hand sliding wetly against Sharon's clit. She crooked her fingers, searching out that spot that always made Sharon fly apart and was rewarded with a chocked sob when she found it. Eyes screwed shut now, the look on Sharon's face was one of equal parts pleasure and concentration. Brenda could feel Sharon's strong internal muscles spasm and then lock around her as she shattered, only an eerie little whimper making it pasts her lips. Those very lips descended only seconds later onto Brenda's, claiming her mouth in a crushing kiss that was over all to soon when Sharon let herself flop down onto the bed next to her. 

Brenda rolled onto her side - as well as she could with one hand still shackled - and watched the other woman intently; the rise and fall of her flushed chest, the trembling fingers pushing damp hair out of her face. While Sharon usually didn't mind post-coital cuddling, Brenda sensed that she wanted to enjoy her afterglow undisturbed on this occasion. So she quietly observed as Sharon slowly came down from her high, the odd aftershock making her body twitch and drawing little hums from her. 

Eventually Sharon let out a deep sigh and turned her head, looking at Brenda. Her expression lacked both the usual tenderness after these encounters as well as the earlier anger and disgust towards Brenda. The captain Raydor mask was firmly in place, and Brenda felt a lump forming in her throat. Sharon averted her eyes when she sat up, moving over to free her other hand. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing Brenda could think of to say, as she gingerly ran her fingers over the angry red welts on her wrists. Damn, those would be difficult to explain. 

“You can stay if you want.” Sharon's neutral, almost polite, voice cut through Brenda's thoughts and she returned her gaze to the older woman, who sat settled against the headboard. Something in her eyes told Brenda in no uncertain terms that the other woman would prefer she didn't, and that hurt.

“No, I should get going.” She nearly managed to keep the tremble out of her voice.

Sharon nodded once, firmly, folding her hands in her lap.“Okay.”

Brenda got out of bed and gathered her clothes, dressing quickly with her back to the bed and its occupant. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but the whole room reeked of sex and the smell was almost suffocating her. Usually she was the one who decided when to make her exit, when to go back to her home and her husband, but after today Sharon had more than earned the right to dismiss her for a change. When she was fully dressed and had put on her shoes, she turned back to the older woman, who regarded her calmly, which only intensified Brenda's unease. She clutched her large handbag firmly to her body, as if it was some sort of shield.

“Right, um.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I'm off then.”

Again, Sharon nodded, and simply said, “Good night, Brenda Leigh.”

Brenda stiffened and felt that sting of tears in her eyes again. Somehow this felt like a good bye for more than just this evening. She should ask Sharon where this day had left them, tell her that she felt bad about her behaviour, but all she could do was mutter, “Good night” in return and then spin on her kitten heels and march out of Sharon's apartment. 

She made it out of the building and all the way to her car before bursting into tears.


End file.
